


Warmth

by PhantomWarrior99



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:55:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28840503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhantomWarrior99/pseuds/PhantomWarrior99
Summary: It's the small moments that remind her what she's fighting for.
Relationships: Female Guardian/Shaxx (Destiny)
Kudos: 13





	Warmth

She's never in the Tower anymore - forever running off to save one world or another, dashing between Crucible and Gambit matches, protecting the galaxy from those who wish to control it.

It's exhausting, draining to say the least and downright horrific to say the most. She fights on, hurdling into hell and death's bitter sting. It's worth it, she reminds herself. It's all worth it in the end.

And he's proud of her. She knows he's proud of her. She sees it in the lingering glances she catches from the towering Titan, the subtle brush of his shoulder against hers when she's discussing bounties with him. The way he catches her before she rushes off to prevent another disaster and he demands a quick embrace. Perhaps it's more than pride, but she isn't brave enough to broach that particular subject.

She can face the Darkness. The Red Legion. Even death itself, but she can't face the prospect of being something more to the Crucible overseer.

So, on a night she's finally had a chance to spend in the Tower, she's greeted by an invite for her to join him for dinner. She isn't altogether stunned but nor is she prepared when he awkwardly proposes an "evening of spicy ramen, glory and tales of your heroism!"

She'd accepted, of course. More time to spend with him was always what she wanted, perhaps even drag him out on a mission or two when Zavala wasn't paying attention. That prospect, more than anything, excited him.

He often lamented about how he missed the thrill of combat and she'd just promised to smuggle him out for a Strike the next day. She wasn't sure where that idea came from, but she was oddly warm, finding herself smiling more than not.

But as the evening turned to nightfall, the Strike "date" was long forgotten. The Hunter had guided Shaxx up to her favorite perch to watch the city lights illuminate the Traveler. He'd had a bit of trouble clearing the smaller spaces they'd squeezed through, but it made for an amusing ascension. At last, she takes his hand and pulls him towards the edge of the platform, taking a seat and smiling up at him expectantly.

He sits without any hesitation, seated close to her and she forces herself not to grin.

"It is quite a view, Guardian," he admits softly, gazing up at the Traveler.

She nods wordlessly, stealing a subtle glance towards the Warlord. She hasn't seen him this calm in ages.

She looks back towards the Traveler, drumming her fingers on her thighs before she leans her head against his shoulder. Beside her, his frame stiffens for a fraction of a second before it ebbs.

And then his hand finds hers on her thigh, entwining fingers, leather pressed close together and she smiles. He holds her hand and she can breathe again. With the city below and the sky alight with brilliant crimson and yellow, she can feel again. All this time, she's grown numb to that which makes the galaxy worth fighting for and this, more so than anything, is a reminder.

All that they've lost; the worlds, the people, the _family_. It's a reminder of the victories that have allowed this to happen. The moments of valor, the memories of pain.

It all comes down to this.

And it was worth it.

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End file.
